Making Up for Lost Time
by rednebdnim
Summary: After Vance split up the team, Tony and Ziva finally get their act together. But then Ziva has to run from Mossad and Tony joins her as they hide in Europe, at least for the moment.
1. Wearing Out the Carpet

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However any characters and/or storylines that I created for this story are mine.  
**

--

Thanks to _LorelaiGilmore82_ and _BatYisrael_ for betaing!

--

**FYI**

Where I live, NCIS is on twice a week, there is the regular NCIS spot on Sunday evening plus reruns on Thursday evening. What do you think about those three facts:

- The three most currently aired episodes of NCIS (5x9, 5x10, 5x11) had an average attendance of 2.5 million viewers.  
- The last three aired episodes of season 4 had an average attendance of 4.05 million viewers.  
- The current reruns (season 3!) on Thursday have cleared the 3.2 million viewer mark frequently.

I don't know about you, but does that look like the show is on the right track? With stone old reruns drawing a bigger audience that all new episodes?

I love suspenseful stories and appreciate a good story twist, but what has been going on since mid season 5 is just fxcking with our heads, that's all.

Just my 2 cts. Feedback appreciated!

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

****

Chapter 1: Wearing Out the Carpet

--

I had been pacing across my living room for over an hour now. It was eight o'clock already. I had left work at about five; I don't think I had left this early anytime during the last year. But, there was nothing left to do at the office. I was told I should go home and start packing, and, lacking anything else to do, I complied.

Was there really nothing else to do?

Of course there was! That was what I have been agonizing about since the moment Vance told us that he was breaking our team apart.

So, what was I still doing here?

I couldn't just drive to her place, tell her how I feel, have a one night stand and then leave. Or could I? I knew a part of me wanted to. Damn, I had wanted to tell her how I felt ever since that undercover assignment when we had posed as the assassin couple.

But I always had found a reason not to. At first, I have to admit, she had intimidated me. I knew so little about her past and my mind had filled in the blanks with the worst stuff I could think a Mossad officer of doing. Then, as I had gotten to know her better, we had become closer, I called her my friend. But was that all there was to it?

Before I could figure it out Gibbs had quit and I was thrown into a new situation. Suddenly I was the team supervisor and in charge. There was so much to do and I wanted to do it well. I had an instant rapport with Jennifer Shepard, our new director. Jenny! I was relieved to see that she trusted me with my new responsibilities, I needed that so much at the time.

So, when she asked me to take on that cataclysmic undercover assignment to expose her arch enemy 'La Grenouille', I didn't even think twice about it.

I was honored to be trusted with such an important task.

I was going to help bring down a major international arms dealer.

I was going to be successful.

I was horribly, terribly mistaken to get involved with that!

Because, doing all that forced me not to deal with something else: My relationship with Ziva. How could I tell her my feelings and then go off on an undercover mission that involved seducing another woman?

And then the mission was over. By that time I had actually kidded myself into falling for my assignment, my target.

Through all that time, Ziva had been there for me. I had seen the worry on her face when she discovered my frequent hospital visits. I had noticed the hurt expression when she found out the supposed reason for those visits. And I had seen her disappointment when she found out the full weight of what I had been withholding from her during the 12 months of my assignment.

But still, she had been there for me, had offered me her shoulder to cry on, had tried to bait me into arguments so I could vent the built up pressure.

Even then, I did nothing to let her know what I felt. I thought I needed more time before I could tell her. I needed to leave Jeanne behind me. Ziva could not be just a rebound fling.

But then the directors vendetta against 'La Grenouille' caught up with me yet again. The turmoil of Jeanne accusing me of murder sucked me right back into the deep hole I had been trying to climb out of. The following weeks had been almost as hard as the time immediately after my assignment.

Then Ziva got herself almost killed during that undercover operation to find the murderer of cheating marine wifes, and she completely derailed. I was hurt when she didn't let me be there for her, be her friend. That feeling only intensified when I found out about her picking up that 'Michael' guy from the bar she had been working under cover.

It took me a while to understand that Michael had been for Ziva what I had not wanted her to be to me, the rebound partner: temporary, replaceable and unimportant. But as much as my mind understood, jealousy still stabbed at my heart like a knife whenever I thought about them together.

And now we had returned from L.A., our director dead, our places on Gibbs' team assigned to other agents and the old team scattered as far as the new director had been able to. We were broken up. Not just as a team but also as individuals.

I had thought about turning in my badge, but I didn't. I wouldn't surrender that easily. I had to leave tomorrow morning with the first flight, becoming the new agent afloat on some godforsaken battleship. But I would prevail! And hopefully, somehow, we would prevail as a team. It was the how part that I had yet to figure out.

Then it became clear to me that if I had to go through with this, then at least I wouldn't do it without seeing Ziva one last time. What ever might happen, when I met her one more time, it could never be as regretful as not seeing her again would be. Also, this was not the time for regrets, there would be more than enough opportunities for that later.

I forced myself out of the trance I had been in, struggling to get a grip on reality. I looked up at the clock, realizing it was almost nine already.

Time was running out.

My time.

Our time.

I could keep pacing, I could keep thinking things over and over again and get nowhere. I could just accept fate, lie down and take it. But I was determined not to let that happen. Right now, there was only one place I needed to be, and only one person I needed to see.

I grabbed my jacket, dashed through my apartment door and ran for the elevator. I pressed the call button and the doors almost immediately slid open, revealing Ziva.

We stood opposite each other, both frozen, looking as if struck by lightning. And then, about two seconds later, we started moving the very same instant, closing the small distance that had been between us, pressing our bodies together, finding each others lips for the first time since that undercover assignment so long ago.

Next Chapter will be around sometime this weekend.


	2. A Naked, Panting Madman

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I created for this story are mine.**

Note: OK, it's time for me to admit something: There wont be any of the scenes everybody probably anticipated to follow after the last chapter. I just can't do it! It will either read totally boring, or it will be so hot and (p...)graphic that I wouldn't dare post it with an 'M' rating.

So, for anybody disappointed, I recommend reading 'M E Wofford''s excellent 'Battle of the Sexes' instead, or even better: also.

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 2: A Naked, Panting Madman**

--

I woke up with a start, fearing that last night had only been a dream.

My first night with Ziva.

The best night of my live!

Unfortunately, that night also seemed to be destined to precede the now coming time, which I expected to turn out to be the worst time of my live. Actually, I was sure of it!

My hands searched the bed next to me, only to find it still warm, but empty. I heard a noise, coming from the living room, and jumped out of bed. I didn't bother wasting any time with putting on clothes or taking care of anything else that, right now, seemed unimportant. Damn it, I hardly even bothered with opening the doors I had to run through on my way to the living room!

When I burst into the living room, a naked, panting madman with his hair in disarray, Ziva was talking Hebrew to someone on the telephone, not even flinching at the weird figure that just disrupted her conversation. Instead she smiled at me, quickly finished the call and then turned to me.

"Are you ready for a live changing experience?"

"I think we already did that last night," I chuckled.

"Well, that only was the beginning," she snickered back, then she suddenly turned serious. "But, Tony, I was actually talking about something else. Although, I think before we talk about this you should take a quick shower while I make some coffee for us, so we can talk about it. This will be important and you should really be awake for this."

I must have given her a really bewildered look, because she continued.

"Don't look at me like that, I am almost certain you will think that my suggestion is a good one!" Then she basically shoved me into the bathroom in order to get ready for our talk.

--

When I reemerged from the bedroom, freshly showered and, this time, fully clothed, she was back on the phone, obviously bringing an argument to a solution that was to her liking.

After she hung up she crossed the room to come to me. Upon reaching me, she basically sunk into my arms, displaying a weakness I had never seen her admit before. I was shocked! But then she looked up, stood on her toes and lifted herself just a little bit, so her lips could find mine. My knees got weak when I realized that what I had just experienced hadn't been a weak Ziva, but a trusting one.

I wondered if anybody else ever had seen that Ziva before me.

After a little while Ziva left my embrace and started pulling we towards the kitchen.

It obviously was time to talk.

--


	3. Decision

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I created for this story are mine.**

--

Thanks to _LorelaiGilmore82_ for betaing!

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 3: Decision**

--

When we had settled in the kitchen, each one of us holding a hot, steaming cup of coffee in hands, Ziva started to explain her plans.

"Tony, I can't go back to Mossad. There are some things that happened on my last assignment which have placed me on their bad side. NCIS was my "get-out-of-jail-free" card as far as all that was concerned. But now, with Jenny gone, there wont be anymore reason for Mossad to keep this quiet. When I return I can't expect to even survive my first few assignments, they all will be bound to be suicide missions!" She stated matter-of-factly.

Shocked as I was, I had to interrupt her. "They want to kill you, just because you shot Ari Haswari? But he went rogue, you had to do something! He was a madman! They have to consider that!"

Which was her cue to cut me off. "But he also was the son of one of Mossad's deputy directors! And how did you know that it was me who shot Ari?"

"Well, Ziva, I am a trained crime scene investigator and although Gibbs' report was very good and also extremely convincing, there just were too many things that suggested a third person in the room. And why would it be important that he was the son of a deputy director?"

"Because his father's Name, Dr. Benjamin Weinstein, only was an alias for deputy director David, my father. Ari was my half-brother!", she exclaimed, looking extremely sad and desperate. "And, no offense, but if you figured it out, you can see why I am so sure that my father also knows about this!"

Her whole body was shaking, as she was relieved of at least a part of the pressure which had been building up by the sheer weight of all the secrets she had to carry around with her.

I reached across the table and took both her hands into mine, offering her some comfort. My eyes searched hers, trying to determine if I should come around and hold her or if that would just break her down right now. But then she suddenly pulled herself together.

"Listen Tony, I am happy that you know the whole story now, but thats only a small part of what I wanted to talk to you about. I have made arrangements for myself to disappear, to go underground. But I will never be able to come back."

I looked at her in disbelieve, but at the same time I knew that she was right. Director David wouldn't shy away from killing her, 'just' because she was his own daughter.

"I'll come with you!" I basically blurted out.

She smiled at me, but I could also see that her smile had a bitterness to it, she knew what she was asking me to do, maybe she just hadn't realized how very ready, almost eager, I was to do it.

"I was hoping you'd say that, because I was seriously starting to consider taking one of those guys," she said, reaching into her bag, retrieving a thick envelope and handing it to me.

I ripped open the envelope and found 6 passports in it. I opened the first, a German one, it stated "Jürgen Kaufmann", right next to my picture. The next one was Dutch, issued to "Jan Meijer", also a guy that had a strong likeness to me. The remaining passports were for Sweden, Spain, Italy and France.

I felt her hand on my arm, she stood right beside me.

"Before you say any more, I need you to think about the consequences that coming with me will have. For you! You will never be able to come back home. Period! And even if everything goes well, there are very few people who are on the run, and we definitely would be on the run, who make it more that a few years. Most are caught even sooner."

I put my finger over her lips, stopping her.

"But I would be on the run with the very best, wouldn't I?" I even managed to give her a little smile.

"Yes, but you also would be running from the best!"

"Stop trying to talk me out of this! Otherwise I will have to start saying stuff like 'Home is where the heart is' or 'I would follow you to the end of the world and back' and that would just be way too cheesy, wouldn't it?"

I enjoyed seeing her flash a small smile, no matter how brief it was.

"So, I suppose we are traveling light?" I said, starting to go to my bedroom to fetch a few things I treasured.

--


	4. Switching Continents

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I created for this story are mine.**

--

Thanks to _LorelaiGilmore82_ for betaing!

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 4: Switching Continents**

--

"Tony, my car or yours?" Ziva asked me.

I looked at her, not understanding her meaning.

"What do you mean? Which car are we going to use to get to the airport? I don't care!"

"No, Tony I mean which car we are going to take to fake an accident with two fatalities?"

I sighed.

"I want to say your car, because it would be far more believable that we had an accident while you're driving."

At that point I was punched on the shoulder.

"But as nobody would ever suspect that I would sacrifice my car, just to give us a few hours to disappear, I think we should take it, I won't be able to use it again, anyway. But you said two fatalities, won't they immediately notice if the car is empty?"

"I have already taken care of that, Jane and John Doe are already waiting in the trunk of your car."

Seeing her in full spy-mode made me feel a little uncomfortable. I tried to relieve the tension a little bit by making a joke.

"Please tell me that you got them from some morgue and didn't just go and organized some fresh ones!" I said, grinning to make sure she got that I was only making a joke.

"Tony, falling back on my training is one thing, but I can't go back to the person I was when I came to the US. And I don't want to."

"And I love you for that. So, I think we have taken care of everything around here. Let's go and crash my car."

Nine and a half hours later my car was lying at the bottom of a steep cliff somewhere outside DC and Ziva and I were getting ready to inconspicuously board a Lufthansa Cargo plane in Atlanta. We had paid the crew a nice sum in order to smuggle us into Germany, circumventing all of the usual paperwork. After all, our new identities never had left Germany in the first place.

--

During the flight we both tried to sleep as much as we could. The following day would be a long one! Actually it was more like one, extra long, 42 hour day, as we would lose six hours for the time zones we crossed, only to skip sleep during the next night.

When we were about 20 minutes from our final descent into Frankfurt, Ziva woke me. Beside the small carry on bags we had when we had boarded the plane in Atlanta, there were two more bags, not very big, but surely very heavy to lift.

When I looked at her, quizzically, she mouthed: "Spending money, courtesy of Mossad!"

She probably had emptied every secret stash of spy utensils when she decided to go on the run.

--

Arriving and bypassing any customs inspection in Frankfurt was easy. Ziva seemed to know all the right people and, if at sometime she didn't have any contacts, she sure had a knack for finding somebody to help us very fast.

When we were clear of customs she turned to me and said: "Do you want to use your credit card one last time?"

I was about to respond "I can't, we left my old wallet on one of the corpses that we send flying off the cliff in my car," when she handed me my credit card.

I was at a loss for words and looked at her questioningly. "Won't that immediately give away where we are going?"

"Yes, but everything up until now was just to buy us the time we need to actually disappear. They will figure out that we weren't in your car within a couple of days anyway. Now we put your credit card to good use one last time in order to create a false trail."

We went over to the rental agency with the most cameras and made sure we were seen as much as possible before we picked up an economy sized car. I smiled when I found out that in Germany renting an economy sized car meant a BMW 3 series.

A few minutes later we were back on the road.

--


	5. Highway to Hell

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I created for this story are mine.**

--

The next few chapters T. and Z. will spend with getting accustomed to their new and changing surroundings. Also Tony will receive a little bit of a "Spying 101" course. As I also have already written quite a few more chapters, you can expect updates at least twice a week, at least for now ;) .

Thanks to _LorelaiGilmore82_ for betaing!

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 5: Highway to hell**

--

My whole body tensed as I tried to get a grip. I needed to find something I could hold on to in order to sustain the harsh impact which I was sure would come in the next few seconds.

"Ziva! When you mentioned the possibility that we could die if we ran, you should have mentioned that you were going to be the one who's killing us!" I glanced over to her to see her focusing on her driving, just narrowly avoiding all sorts of traffic.

All things considered our death would probably have to be considered my fault. How could I have been stupid enough to say, "Sure Ziva, I don't mind if you're driving!" Had I forgotten where I was? Well, I was reminded soon enough, though.

--

When we had left the airport, it had suddenly hit me. There was a traffic sign, stating 'Autobahn'. The moment I read it, I finally made the connections.

Ziva was driving!

We were heading for the autobahn!

There was no speed limit!

We were going to die!

I must have gasped or something, because she turned her head and gave me a concerned look. Well, at least for the first second she looked concerned, but when she realized why I had gasped, she sported an almost devilish smile, stated that she had picked a very cheap rental car which wouldn't even go much faster than 250kph anyway and then directed her focus back to the road.

Somehow the thought of not going much faster than 250kph didn't soothe me. After all that meant we would be going at about 160mph!

--

It took her a little less than 3 and a half hours to cover the distance from Frankfurt to Munich. Upon our arrival we dumped the unlocked rental car as a decoy in an area where it surely would be stolen within hours after our departure, only to resurface somewhere in Eastern Europe as a stripped wreck a few days later.

Ziva also took care of losing my credit card in an area where it also would surely be found by somebody appreciative. So, there now were two more false trails for anybody chasing us.

After taking care of the decoys we took care of our actual travel arrangements. After traveling all the way to the south of Germany, now we would take a bullet train which would take us back up north again. Ziva had scouted the train stations in Munich for security cameras and had found a station nearby which currently seemed to have it's cameras down. She also somehow knew that there was a small train station close to the Dutch border which didn't have any cameras at all.

An hour later we boarded the ICE3 in a Munich suburb and were on our way again.

--

Ziva had bought us first class tickets, so we had an entire section of the train car for ourselves. After a few minutes we had made ourselves comfortable and I was about to go to sleep when I noticed a small display that said "330 km/h".

"Ziva!?"

She grunted, as she also had been about to fall asleep when I asked her.

"What is it, Tony?"

"What does 'km/h' stand for?"

"It's German for 'kilometers per hour', Tony."

"So we are going 200 mph right now?"

"So, what? They have fast trains in Europe, didn't you know?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"I'm just looking forward to be staying in the same place for a few days sometime soon."

"Don't worry, our next destination is a small cabin in a remote, rural area. We will stay at least a week, verifying that they have lost our trail. If we're still alive at the end of the week, we'll take it from there," she said, already half asleep from the exhaustion of the last two days.

I sat in our compartment, watching her sleep. After hearing her last words the fear of crashing into something at high speed didn't seem quite that important anymore. But even with all that underlying danger, I felt good. And before I knew it I fell asleep, too.

--


	6. Spying 101 for Tony

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I created for this story are mine.**

--

Dank an _LorelaiGilmore82_ für's lektorieren!

_Cable Addict_: SCNR

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 6: Spying 101 for Tony**

--

Two days ago we had arrived at our preliminary destination. Ziva hadn't promised too much when she had stated that it was in the middle of nowhere, but that wasn't the only reason she had chosen it.

After our arrival, we had collapsed onto the dingy bed, too exhausted to care. The next morning had been filled with all sorts of hectic activity. Ziva had located the car that came with the cabin, I guess spies like package deals, too. Although that little, piece of shit car had absolutely nothing in common with the spy cars I had seen in any movie. An old, beat up Volkswagen Golf, probably around twenty years old, emanating all sorts of strange noises when we took it for a test drive. But, it ran, which was all we cared about at the time.

But soon I realized Ziva wasn't just checking out the car, she also was familiarizing herself with our new surroundings. I followed her gazes, trying to evaluate the territory as she was. Soon, I realized that I seemingly wasn't doing a very good job at it, I became a little frustrated.

"Ziva, if you'd tell me what you are looking for, maybe I could help you with it," I stated, a little unnerved.

She looked at me, stating, "Tony, I think you are a much better observer than you give yourself credit for. Let's finish this first round, find a place to get something to eat and sit down and compare our observations. I think you will probably have noticed around 90 of what I am looking for, ok?"

I nodded in agreement and resumed looking out the car's windows again. Half an hour later we came back to the area of our hideout.

"I think, I know where you're going, when we made our first turn leaving from our shelter, there was a small restaurant."

"See, I told you!"

"Told me what?"

"That you are a good observer!" She smiled at me.

I returned her smile and when the car stopped in front of the restaurant, I leaned over to kiss her. When our lips met, I realized that this was the first time we kissed after we had arrived in Germany, the strain of being on the run had forced us to focus on other things, but now it was hard to keep our passion under control.

"Let's eat something and then head back for some desert," I suggested, hardly managing to pull back, breaking our kiss.

"Sounds like a plan"

--

As we had hoped, the restaurant was almost empty. Ziva walked in and I followed her to a table close to the rear exit, acknowledging the waiter on our way.

"Won't we attract attention by just bursting in here, without waiting to be seated?"

"I'm sorry Tony, but the whole being assigned to a table by a hostess is something very American. In Europe only extremely upscale restaurants do that. Usually you just walk in, sit down at a table you like and make sure they noticed you."

I shook my head and asked, "I assume you didn't just randomly pick this table? Could it have to do with the fact that it is so close to the rear exit?"

"And also, with both of us being able to see both other exits," she added.

A moment later, the waiter approached our table, offered us the menus and asked for our drink order. Ziva handled that, because even though they probably would have understood me if I had ordered in English, but for now we didn't want anybody to notice that we weren't from around here.

After we had ordered our food, I told Ziva, "You know, this feels a little like I am taking 'Spying 101' at 'Secret Agent University'."

"That is, because you sort of are doing just that," was her calm reply. "Are you ready for another lesson?"

"Sure"

"When we get our food, watch how I eat and try to emulate it, ok?"

"Ziva, I have seen you eat!"

"Just wait and see", she stated, smiling.

--

After a while, our food was brought to the table and I started working on the huge steak I had ordered. All the time I kept glancing back and forth between mine and Ziva's plate. Damn, I had thought she had been kidding, but there obviously were more ways than one to use a fork and knife on a piece of meat (see Note at bottom).

After our meal, we were so concentrated on talking about the results of our morning scouting expedition that all thoughts about the promised desert were pushed to the back of our minds, at least for a little while.

I was surprised how much information the trip had yielded. We now knew about two major highways which would provide for a quick getaway, should it ever become necessary. Also, we had located a couple of stores where we would be able to get anything we needed during the next few days.

Finally Ziva stated, "But we should use the afternoon to do some more scouting, ok?"

I nodded.

"But not before desert!", Ziva mischievously smiled at me.

--

**Note:** In Europe (and everywhere else I went so far) people usually hold the fork in their left hand and the knife in their right hand while eating, they may put one or both down at some point during a meal, but that's about it, the fork stays in the left hand, the knife stays in the right hand. As far as I have observed, Americans do the same only while cutting the food, but then take the fork into the right hand to eat, sometimes switching back and forth for every bite. That ensuing back and forth of laying down the knife and then switching the fork to the other hand has always baffled me, but for the sake of this story (and probably also in general!) let's assume that it looks just as weird for an American (here: Tony) when this constant change is missing.


	7. Lost Friends

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I created for this story are mine.**

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 7: Lost Friends**

--

Washington DC, the day after Vance broke up the team.

--

After a long night of worrying and weighting his options, Gibbs had resigned to the fact that, at least right now, there was nothing he could do to get his team back together. All that was left right now was seeing Tony and Ziva off to their new destinations in the afternoon.

He'd been trying all morning to reach either of them on their cells, but hadn't had any luck with that. Were they just gonna leave without saying goodbye? He couldn't believe that, something must be wrong. His thoughts were interrupted when he realized that Ducky was standing at his desk.

"Jethro, ...," he started, visibly struggling to find the words for what he had to tell him.

"Ducky, have you been in contact with Ziva or Tony since yesterday?" Gibbs asked, not waiting for Ducky to find the words.

"Jethro, ..., there has been an accident, ..., they found Tony's car at the bottom of a cliff in Virginia this morning!" Ducky stated, struggling with his composition.

"Tony?" Gibbs asked, dreading to hear the expected answer.

"Yes," Ducky stood next to Gibbs, putting his hand on his shoulder, not just as a sign of empathy for his friend but also to steady himself as he felt his own legs wavering, "and a female body. The local coroner couldn't tell me much about her yet, because the bodies have been crushed and burned badly."

After getting through all that Ducky felt lightheaded. Gibbs realized that his old friend was about to collapse and supported him, sitting him down in the now unoccupied chair at McGee's old desk.

"Are you going to be alright, Duck?" Gibbs gave him a concerned look.

But Ducky wasn't even close to have an answer to that question.

"Jethro, just go, please find out if it's them!"

--

Gibbs blasted off NCIS's parking lot, driving to the Virginia crash site, while putting Ziva's usually unmatched skills for insanely reckless driving to shame. After about 50 minutes he arrived at his destination, having cut the usually hour and a half long trip almost in half.

He approached the police band, flashed his badge and quickly located the detective in charge of the investigation. After a brief exchange he'd managed to convince him that there was sufficient reason to believe that the two charred bodies were NCIS agents and to turn the scene over to them.

Gibbs decided to take a quick look at the wreckage before he would call NCIS to deliver the horrible news. The car unmistakably was the same type as Tony had bought after he had lost his old Mustang to a failed bombing attempt against 'La Grenoullie's' daughter. The car was crushed and burned almost beyond any recognition, but after a while Gibbs found one of the license plates which identified the wreckage as Tony's car.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the forthcoming phone call to Ducky. For the second time within just a few days, he would lay upon him the responsibility to inform their colleagues at NCIS about the death of a coworker, actually, this time of two coworkers.

How could this have happened? What had they been doing all the way out here?

He sighed and flipped open his phone, dialing Ducky's number, who answered his phone just after the first ring.

"Jethro?"

"Yes, Ducky, I'm sorry, but it definitively is Tony's car. It fell off a ledge and exploded on impact. It's probably best if you bring Tony's and Ziva's dental records with you, when you come out. Ok?"

"I'm so sorry, Jethro! We will be there as soon as possible"

--

Two hours later Gibbs and Ducky were talking to each other, standing safely out of earshot of all other LEOs at the crime scene, visibly relaxed.

Dr. Mallard had just informed Gibbs hat the female body definitely wasn't Ziva's. A quick study of her dental work had ruled that out. As for the male body, there weren't any telltale signs, like gold crowns, that would have helped to make an identification, but Ducky had found that he probably had been built too small to be Tony. Together with the negative identification on Ziva that was enough for them to hope that they were alright.

"Thank god, Ducky!" Gibbs exclaimed.

"Just remember, for now I have only done a best guess analysis, even though I am quite hopeful that the autopsy will verify these preliminary findings," Ducky explained.

"I think Ziva realized that she wouldn't be that welcome back at Mossad, that they even might think of her as a security risk!"

"So, they would have fired her?"

"Not the way Mossad deals with people they deem not to be trustworthy anymore, Ducky!"

"Oh, I see! But why has she taken Tony with her? Or do you think these two finally got their act together?"

"It certainly looks that way, Ducky! Not to play down the gravity of their situation, but there is nothing more efficient that a crisis to motivate people to get their act together."

"I was thinking, maybe it would be best ..." Ducky started to explain.

"... be best if they, at least officially, had died in that car wreck?" Gibbs finished Ducky's thought.

"What about Abby and McGee? We should at least tell them that they are alright."

"No, I'm sorry Ducky, but if Tony and Ziva really are on the run, the less people know about this, the better. We will tell them eventually, but for now Ziva's and Tony's safety is more important. Ever hour we can help them gain on Mossad will help them to disappear."

"You probably are right," Ducky sighed.

They organized the processing of the crime scene by the backup team Ducky had brought with him and also took care that the car and the two bodies would be transported to NCIS as soon as possible, so that Ducky would be able to fake their friends death.

The trip back to the Navy Yard was dominated by silence, both thinking about what they were about to do to Abby and McGee, only to be consoled by the knowledge that it would help Tony and Ziva.

--


	8. Breaking the News, and Hearts in the Pro

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I created for this story are mine.**

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 8: Breaking the News, and Hearts in the Process**

--

When Gibbs and Ducky returned to the Navy Yard, they were very aware that they were about to break Abby's and McGee's hearts.

They had spent the entire drive home contemplating every aspect of Tony and Ziva's likely situation and what they could do to help them. Unfortunately the answer both of them kept ending up with was: They had to convince everybody at NCIS that their former teammates are dead.

Hopefully that would give Ziva and Tony enough time to put some distance between themselves and their pursuers.

--

Upon entering the building, Ducky and Gibbs parted ways, Ducky was to take care of the two, very real, bodies, ensuring that they would be accessible to no one but him before the necessary adjustments to their physical attributes had been made. The most important task was to switch out Tony and Ziva's dental records, because that would be the fastest and also most reliable way to identify the bodies. Other things, like taking care of the agent's DNA on record, would have to be taken care of later.

Gibbs was heading over to the cyber-crimes division to pick up McGee. Then he and McGee would go to Abby's lab where Gibbs planned to break the horrible news to both of them together.

He kept telling himself that he was doing this so they could support each other when they found out, but deep inside he knew the real reason was that he couldn't get through telling both of them separately. He would crack, he would offer them consolation by telling them the truth, that their friends were alive. Only to seriously decrease Tony and Ziva's lead significantly.

He sighed, walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. While riding up the two stories to the cyber-crimes offices, he briefly distracted himself by the thought that this elevator would make a much nicer conference room than the small one they had in the other building. But that image disappeared as soon as the car reached the third floor and the doors slid open, revealing McGee's new office.

--

McGee sat at his new desk, he had barely settled into his new working area and was busy with arranging the contents of his new desk to his linking, though he wasn't sure if he'd ever find a new 'work-home', like the one he had enjoyed until the day before. Who would have thought that he'd miss Tony making fun of him all the time?

He was jerked from his day-dream when Gibbs' right hand connected with the back of his head.

"I need you to follow me to Abby's lab."

He was irritated, something seemed off. But he knew better than to ask Gibbs now, he would find out as soon as they were in Abby's lab.

"Sure, boss!", he said, chuckling at his used of the word boss for Gibbs. He'd always be his boss, no matter where he worked.

--

Minutes later Gibbs and McGee entered the Lab, only to find Ducky, who was already with Abby. He had already taken care of the bodies and now wanted to be there when Gibbs told them. He didn't just want Gibbs to know that they were in this together, but he also wanted to be there for Tim and Abby when they found out.

Abby jumped to her feet, "Gibbs, what is going on, Ducky won't tell me anything, but from the looks on your faces something terrible must have happened!"

Gibbs looked at both of them, holding eye contact with each of them for a brief second, and took a deep breath before he started to speak.

"Abby, Tim, there has been an accident. This morning local police found a car at the bottom of a cliff in Virginia. … It was Tony's!"

"No!" Abby and McGee shouted at the same time. Abby started to shake, her legs feeling like jelly. Tim moved closer to steady her.

Gibbs continued, "They found two bodies in the car, one male, one female. We think they are Tony and Ziva's, but Ducky will find out soon."

Then Abby surprised all three of them by getting a grip on herself, jumping up and starting to work on her computer. Everybody looked at her, quite shocked she would carry on like that. But then she retrieved two freshly printed pages from her printer and handed them to Ducky, stating, "Let's prove it's not them."

Ducky looked at the pages, they contained the dental records from Tony and Ziva's files. Then he took the pages from Abby's hands, even though he already knew he wouldn't be able to offer her any good news, and left the lab in order to start the autopsy.

McGee stood in the middle of the Lab, motionless, silent, tears flowing down his cheeks. Gibbs laid a hand onto his shoulder which made him flinch before his mind could understand the reassuring gesture. At that point Abby pulled both of them into a group hug and kept stating that this had to be a mistake, over and over again.

--

Almost an hour later Ducky reappeared, surprising himself with his calmness, and told them that the dental records of the bodies matches Tony and Ziva's.

Gibbs and Ducky exchanged a quick glance while Abby and McGee processed the information and broke down in front of them. Their look said it all: This better be worth it.

--


	9. Tony's New Girlfriend

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I have created for this story are mine.**

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 9: Tony's New Girlfriend**

--

A/N:

People, we are back in Europe, only for a very brief time, though!

If you promise not to tell anybody, here are the coordinates of Tony and Ziva's hideout:

(51°43'48.76"N – 6°38'45.35"E)

But, shhhhhh!

--

Tony was getting nervous!

First thing this morning, Ziva had driven into town, mumbling something about going to the local „real" supermarket, stating that she needed to get something to help them keep a low profile.

Tony had wondered what a supermarket would have to aide them with that, but then he had decided to use the opportunity to brush up on the little German Ziva had taught him. In a restaurant, he wanted to be able to order his own meal by himself, after all. And he was getting there.

He had been sitting on the patio upon her return, so lost in his studies of German vocabulary, that he didn't really see her when she came around the corner and immediately disappeared into the bathroom.

That had been almost two hours ago!

After about an hour he had started to worry and knocked on the bathroom door. She had told him she needed more time and he had accepted that for the time being. After all, men waiting for women to get ready to leave the bathroom seemed to be something that evolution just had deemed to be necessary for the survival of the species.

Just as Tony started to consider breaking down the bathroom door, her heard the lock being turned from the inside and the door being opened.

"Finally," he thought.

This had to be a new record time. He turned, in order to find out what had taken Ziva that long in the bathroom, but then froze in his tracks. His jaw dropped to the floor and he was at a loss for words.

From the bathroom emerged a blond woman, who had a distant likeness to Ziva. Her long, wavy, dark brown hair had been replaced with a shoulder length, straight, blond do, her dark brown eyes were hidden behind bright blue contact lenses.

"So, what do you think?" Ziva asked him with a shy smile.

Now Tony was not only frozen in his tracks, but also acutely aware that he also was standing on waver thin ice. One wrong word and Ziva would probably hold it over him every time he said something supposedly wrong after she had returned to her normal self, which he actually hoped would be as soon as possible.

"Well, two hours ago my extraordinarily beautiful girlfriend went into the bathroom and just a minute ago another beautiful woman reemerged from it," he walked up to her, put his right hand on her cheek, only to move it into her hair, checking for any telltale signs of a wig. He found none.

Ziva had stood silently, listening to his words, accepting his touch. She hadn't been sure about her new look, but his words and looks had reassured her that she had made the right choice. He had found the right words to do that, but she actually cared most about the one word he hadn't used when he commented her new look.

He still had his hand in her hair, "you actually cut off those beautiful curls?"

Ziva sighed, realizing that months of hair straightening, trying to get his attention back in DC, obviously had been for nothing. But she wasn't complaining, they were together now, even if she would have liked it to be under better circumstances.

"No, Tony, I had them cut off. This isn't some stupid TV show like 'Alias', where I could just go into a supermarket, grab some hair dye and a simple pair of scissors and then give myself a perfect haircut and dye," Ziva stated matter-of-factly.

"I know, I know!" Tony exclaimed, moving closer and wrapping his arms around her. "Listen, I'm going to say something very risky now. Because, when it comes to commenting on a woman's appearance, any man has much more chances to say the wrong thing, than he has to find the right words. ..."

"... But, Ziva, I wouldn't care however you would have to disguise, as long it would still be you under there and I could be with you, ok?"

Hoping she would understand it as the genuine compliment it was intended to be, he searched her face for a reaction, which he got when she moved her right hand into his hair, and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

"There is only one thing, I'd like to know, Ziva. Why did you spend more than two hours in the bathroom, if you had most of the work done before you even came back?"

Her blushing was enough of an answer for him.

He quickly swept her off her feet and carried her into the small bedroom.

--


	10. No Regrets

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I have created for this story are mine.**

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 10: No Regrets**

--

_A/N:_

_A little remark to everybody commenting on changing Ziva's hair: It's not like I gave her a buzz-cut, people, calm down, please!_

_Also, I'd like to bow in the general direction of Austria, thanking WannaBeLikeZiva for being such an excellent beta and supplying some great ideas which made this chapter possible as it is!_

--

"So, Ziva, can you tell me something?" Tony turned, resting his head on his forearm.

"Hmm," she purred.

"Is it really true, that blondes have more fun?" he asked, grinning as wide as he could and promptly receiving a slight punch to his forearm. "Ouch!" he fake-protested.

"I don't know, maybe I need some more reference material?" Ziva conceded.

"All you had to do was ask!" Tony stated enthusiastically and leaned forward to capture her lips with his. After a few seconds he wrapped his arms around her, rolled onto his back and pulled her with him, so she ended up on top of him. Straddling him, Ziva half propped up, returning his intent gaze.

"Does this remind you of a certain undercover mission we were on a while ago?" he chuckled.

"Please tell me that it isn't your knee this time," she retorted, playing along.

"Maybe you should check, just to be sure?" he suggested, both of them almost bursting into laughter.

Ziva shifted her position a bit, then leaned down to kiss him, slowly lowering her body back onto him.

"Well, it sure doesn't feel like a knee," she moaned into his mouth.

--

Almost an hour later, Ziva and Tony still lay alongside each other, his arms snaked around her from the back, holding her tightly. For once Tony was the one who woke first, taking in her presence. He held her even tighter, smelling her hair, noting that, even now, her new, straight and blond hair smelled incomparably like Ziva: wild and exotic, yet also gentle and even more like home to him.

When she stirred at the slight movements he'd made, he started laying a trail of kisses, beginning behind her left ear, working his way to the hollow of her jaw.

"Do you regret we didn't get up the courage to admit our feelings sooner?" he asked her out of nowhere.

She moved away a little, so she could lie on her back and look at him. Tony started drawing small, imaginary circles onto her abdomen, seemingly lost in thought, but still returning her gaze.

"Maybe we needed something to force our two oversized egos into action?" Ziva suggested.

Tony smiled at her. "I guess we did. And I'm really glad we finally managed to sort things out between us."

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he wanted to tell her. "I'm happy for every hour we are together," he said. "I love you, Ziva."

"I love you, too," she replied without a moment's hesitation.

Tony's smile became even wider. He was more than happy about her words. And it reminded him of something he had been thinking about. "Ziva, there's something I wanted to ask you ..."

Ziva looked at him questioningly, waiting for him to finish his thought.

"... we will need some new IDs sooner or later, won't we?", Tony asked her.

"Sure, I actually was planning on contacting a freelance counterfeiter whom I know from a mission back at Mossad to get a set of throwaway IDs to use to get a message to Gibbs back home."

"Well, I'm not wild about these IDs being of the throwaway kind, but I was wondering if you could ask the counterfeiter to give us IDs as a married couple?" he asked her, placing a kiss on her lips.

After he broke the kiss, she lifted herself up, following his upward motion and soon restarted their passionate kiss where they'd left off. When she pulled back after a moment, she looked into his eyes, verifying she had really heard him correctly.

"So what do you say?" Tony asked.

"I say yes," she replied, grinning at him.

Tony smiled at her, telling her that she had understood his question correctly.

"So, are you ready to go on our honeymoon?" she wanted to know.

"Well, right now I'm ready, not for our honeymoon, but rather for our wedding night!" Tony stated.

"Yet again?" Ziva asked, slightly faking disbelieve, stroking Tony's, no, her husband's, ego a little bit and sank back down into her pillows, encouraging him, "Bring it on!"

Of course, Tony needn't be told twice.

--


	11. Mr & Mrs Staiger take a trip

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I have created for this story are mine.**

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 11: Mr. & Mrs. Staiger take a trip**

--

A/N:

_Also, yet again, I'd like to bow in the general direction of Austria, thanking WannaBeLikeZiva for being such an excellent beta and supplying me with some translations into Bavarian dialect._

_Also, congratulations to anybody from Spain for winning EURO '08. This time the better team really won! I'm still feeling a little depressed, though. :(_

--

Tony was standing in front of the mirror, sliding his hands through his now jet black, slightly shorter and neatly combed back hair. He still wasn't sure what to think of his new, very plain hairstyle and started to understand why Ziva had been so hesitant to leave the bathroom the day before.

After they had finally gotten out of bed that afternoon, Ziva had surprised him with a pair of scissors and some hair dye for him, as well as a couple of sets of different outfits for both of them. Ziva then had proceeded to cut his hair, which she actually had done a pretty good job at, prompting him to suggest it as a possible career for her cover identity. For this Ziva quickly had rewarded him by playfully elbowing him in the stomach.

Then they had moved on to their new outfits. Ziva obviously had tried to choose clothes that were nice enough, but at the same time would blend in well. Sometimes conformity was the best camouflage of all - which sort of bugged Tony. He knew why they needed to keep a low profile, yet still he missed his Ermegildo Zegna shoes and his Armani suits.

Again, he looked at the company logo on his polo. 'Tom Tailor', he thought, only somebody whose first language wasn't English could think of such a name for a clothes company! But then he thought of the name of the company that had made his briefs and decided, maybe 'Tom Tailor' wasn't such a bad name for a clothes manufacturer after all.

''Bruno Banani' briefs' he thought, chuckling and shaking his head.

--

Two days later Ziva had gotten their new travel documents, identifying them as Tommy & Lisa Staiger. They both had had a good laugh at Ziva asking the counterfeiter to use the first names of their alter egos in the Thom E. Gemcity universe and were sure that the others back home would probably do so, too, when they got their message.

--

The next morning.

They had been on the road for almost 5 hours now. Ziva had taken the first turn driving. Fortunately the old and not very powerful car they had limited her top speed to a level Tony was comfortable with. That changed after they had switched to a more powerful rental, after driving halfway to Poland.

After the car switch it was Tony's turn to drive and he gradually got the hang of being allowed to drive as fast as he was comfortable with. He was going at 180kph on their way back west, covering their tracks, Ziva right beside him on the passenger seat, sleeping peacefully. He looked at her still form, wondering how he had ended up in this adventure, a little scared but also happier than he had ever been before. His daydreaming was interrupted when Ziva started to snore and Tony chuckled. This also was one of the things he'd be able to "enjoy" for the rest of his life.

--

Another 5 hours later – they had passed Frankfurt/Main almost an hour ago – they were looking for a place to grab something to eat. Ziva had asked him to avoid the rest areas that were located directly alongside the highway, as they usually came vested with a lot of surveillance equipment, which they wanted to avoid. As unlikely as it was that somebody checked those rest areas' surveillance footage on the very time and day they had passed through, they still didn't want to take any unnecessary risks.

About half an hour later they pulled onto the parking lot of a small restaurant, located about half an hour away from the autobahn they had been on.

They walked in and sat down at a table Tony had chosen, trying to take into account everything Ziva had told him during his "Spying 101" lessons. As they sat, Ziva leaned across the table, placed a brief kiss on his lips and stated, "See, I knew you'd get an A in this class!"

The waiter approached their table, offered them the menus and started to speak.

"Kun I eana daweil was z'trinkn bringa?"

Unfortunately for Tony, he spoke in the strong local German dialect of Bavaria and a baffled Tony turned to Ziva, ignoring the waiter for the moment.

"Did we already leave Germany?" he asked her, seeing her failing to try and keep a straight face. What was going on?

Meanwhile the waiter had realized he was obviously dealing with tourists and decided to try again in English, as he had recognized it as the language his guests seemed to use with each other. "Would you like to order something to drink before you look at the menu?" his words still were laced with a strong accent, but at least in a language Tony was more familiar with.

Five minutes later they had ordered and received their drinks and were almost finished placing their food order. When the waiter left their table, Tony turned to Ziva.

"So, you were having a little fun at my expense, weren't you, sweetcheeks?" he said in a mock annoyed tone of voice.

"I'd never do that!" she replied, equally feigning disbelieve. They fake-stared each other down for a couple more seconds before they burst into laughter.

Over dinner, they discussed their plans for the next few days and decided they wouldn't drive any further today and instead look for a place to stay. When the waiter returned to fetch the now empty plates, they found out that the restaurant also offered some guest-rooms at very low rates and immediately decided to stay there.

Half an hour later they were lying in a semi-comfortable double-bed, tired from the long drive, drifting into a comfortable sleep.

--

The next morning both awoke refreshed and, after a quick breakfast, they soon were back on the road. They had planned on reaching Turin today, a busy Italian city, usually flooded with tourists and also still almost surveillance camera free. An ideal location to make a quick mail-drop. That is, if you could still call driving for 4 days a quick mail drop.

Around one o'clock they took a lunch break in St. Ulrich, a South Tyrolean city. They were almost two hours behind their original schedule, having been delayed by traffic in Austria. They hadn't thought of the European Soccer Championships, which Switzerland and Austria were currently hosting. But thousands and thousands of European soccer fans had remembered and were now creating a huge traffic nightmare as they were moving from game to game.

They were sitting outside a nice restaurant, overlooking a beautiful mountain vista.

"Our mail-dropping fake-honeymoon almost feels like a real vacation, don't you think?" Tony asked, smiling at Ziva.

She nodded absently. He was right. Even with all the tension of being on the run, which she almost never could shake off entirely, this was as close as she ever had come to being on vacation. These brief moments of peace with her new husband were worth all the danger, all the hassle. Ziva smiled at the thought of what they had promised one another, just a few days ago. No matter if they had the proper paperwork to prove it, they now were partners for life. But the happy thought was soon overshadowed by the reality of their current situation. If only he wouldn't be in danger, too. She knew, he refused to realize or even admit it, but they weren't out of the woods yet. And probably they would never be.

When Tony saw the manifestation of those dark thoughts in Ziva's face, he reached out, taking her hands into his, snapping her back to the more pleasant reality. She looked up at him, realizing he could see right through her and couldn't help but to smile.

Twenty minutes later they had their meals in front of them and started to dig in. After they had finished, both started thinking what they were going to tell their friends in their letter. Tony was finding more optimistic words than Ziva, but even he knew the chances of ever seeing them again were slim at best.

When they were finished, they put the letters into individual envelopes for each one of their friends and wrote a small note to all of them.

--

_Dear family,_

_as you probably know by now, it wasn't us in the car wreck a few days ago. We're sorry, we had to put you through that, but we needed to come up with some distractions in order to have the time to actually disappear._

_Please don't try to find us, if our pursuers haven't already realized that you have heard from us, we'd like to keep it that way._

_We each have written a few words for you, our real family, and included them in this letter._

_Again, we are sorry and hope we will be able to contact you again at some point in time, but unfortunately this will have to be it for now._

_Lisa & Tommy Staiger_

_--_


	12. Page 57

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I have created for this story are mine.**

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 12: Page 57**

--

_A/N: Just a very short chapter with some information I felt necessary to supplement chapter 11._

--

The next morning Tony awoke early. He was starting to understand how Ziva had always been able to jump out of bed at times he had considered as just wrong. While he was extremely happy about being with Ziva, there always was this undefined pressure, weighting onto his shoulders.

He pushed those thoughts aside and watched his sleeping wife lovingly. Yesterday, they had mailed the letters for their friends back in DC. He had been concerned that just simply mailing them from Italy would be not be safe. Tony should have remembered that his wife was a highly trained spy.

But that realization had come to him soon enough: Before they had started to write their letters she had handed him gloves and then, after they both had finished writing their individual letters and also the note to the team as a group, she had put all those pages into a sturdy envelope, sealed it and then written NCIS's address on it. Following this she had put the first envelope into a second, addressing it to a mail drop in India. The came a third envelope, which had been addressed to a place in Perth, Australia, yet another old contact of her's.

But for Ziva this still hadn't been enough misdirection. When she had finished stuffing envelope into envelope into envelope, having put the correct, local postage on every single one before stuffing it into the next, she had put some kind of grease in the area where the post office would probably put the postmark on the envelope. While Tony still had been wondering how she had gotten Indian and Australian stamps in Italy, she had told him that the grease would almost certainly cause the postmark to blur beyond recognition while in transfer.

Tony shook his head in amazement and wondered what other surprises she still had in store for him. Then he noticed the super-spy lying next to him stiring slightly and turned his focus back towards her. God, he loved her! A few minutes later she opened her eyes, immediately a hundred percent alert and returning his gaze.

"So, how did you like page 57?" she said, smirking at him.

"If you have to ask, I think we must have done something wrong," he answered

But fortunately they still had a little time before they had to get back on the road to return to their hideout.

--


	13. Hide and Seek

**Of course I don't own any of the original characters, stories, concepts etc. of NCIS or otherwise, they belong to their respective owners. However, any characters and/or storylines that I have created for this story are mine.**

--

**Making Up for Lost Time**

**Chapter 13: Hide and Seek**

--

A/N:

_Also, yet again, I'd like to bow in the general direction of Austria, thanking WannaBeLikeZiva for being such an excellent beta!_

--

Washington D.C., two days after Tony and Ziva went on the run.

--

"Leroy – Jethro - Gibbs!" an extremely pissed off Abby shouted across the bullpen, causing quite a few heads to turn in her direction. Gibbs jumped up and ran towards her. "What were you thinking when you ..."

At that point Gibbs had reached Abby and silenced her with one of his patented glares. He then grabbed her by the elbow and was basically pushing her towards the elevator, his own personal conference room. He pressed the call button and when the elevator doors slid open, he and Abby entered the elevator. Moments later the elevator car came to a sudden stop in between floors, as Gibbs had pushed the emergency switch, temporarily separating them from the outside world.

"Damn it, Abby! What is going on?" Gibbs demanded. "And you better keep your voice down if you even want me to consider listening to your explanation!"

Abby crossed her arms in front of her chest in a defensive gesture, yet her facial expression made it clear that she still was very angry at Gibbs, which was something that hadn't happened before. Ever!

"How do you explain that Tony's credit card was used in Germany yesterday?" She stared him right in the face, not faltering at all. "There is something you're not telling me!" Abby barely managed to keep her voice at an acceptable level.

Gibbs responded to her question by asking one of his own. "Why would you think that his credit card was used?"

"Tim has been monitoring all immigration and financial activity since you told us they were dead and he found out that the card was used in Frankfurt/Germany to rent a car."

Gibbs shushed her, his expression not allowing for any kind of protest.

He flicked the emergency switch back off and waited for the elevator to start moving again. After what seemed like an eternity they finally reached Abby's floor and rushed into her lab. Gibbs immediately closed it off and started to dial a number on his cell. Abby was standing next to him, her confusion about his reactions evident in her facial expression.

--

"Special Agent McGee," the person on the other end of the line answered.

"McGee! Get to Abby's lab, ASAP!" Gibbs barked into his phone and immediately disconnected the call.

A little bit more than 6 minutes later a hurried looking McGee had made his way over from the Cyber Crimes division to Abby's lab.

"You two really have outdone yourselves this time!" Gibbs barked at them. "What the hell were you thinking, putting all those beacons on Tony and Ziva's papers, do you really want them to get killed?"

They both looked at him, stunned and shell shocked at the same time, not immediately understanding what he was getting at. Abby still seemed frozen when McGee snapped out of it, started to move and logged into the trace system, using his Cyber Crimes account. Seconds later he had removed all tracking orders on their papers, credit cards and such.

He stood next to Abby, who now was crying, sobbing uncontrollably. Tim took her into his arms, at the same time staring at Gibbs and, for the first time since he had joined NCIS, he overcame the urge to obey Gibbs and demanded, "What is going on here, Gibbs? Are Tony and Ziva okay? Why did you lie to us?

Gibbs sighed, "We should not discuss this here, come to my house after work. I will ask Ducky to come, too. McGee, take care of Abby while I fetch him."

McGee nodded and turned his full attention back to Abby, who was still fighting for her composure, but so far had lost that battle.

Gibbs' heart was breaking when he left his two broken up team members. He shouldn't have underestimated the two. He should have known that withholding information, even in order to protect someone, always hurt other people and he mentally kicked himself for having done it.

--

Dr. Mallard was leaning over the body of a dead Petty Officer. He had been killed in what looked like a training accident. Ducky was talking into his voice recorder as he was examining the body, collaborating with his assistant, Jimmy Palmer. When he heard the doors to the autopsy suite open and close behind him, he turned around, just to see an obviously upset Gibbs storming into the room.

Ducky looked at Palmer. What Jethro probably had to say wouldn't be intended for his young assistant's ears.

"Mr. Palmer, would you please be so kind as to fetch a copy of our guest's service record, so we can exclude possible preexisting injuries from the damage that occurred during the fall."

Palmer looked up in surprise, he was sure he'd already gotten those. Ducky could see the confusion in his young assistant's face. He decided it would be better to be blunt.

"Or I could just ask you to leave, so Special Agent Gibbs and I can have a private conversation," he elaborated.

It took Jimmy about a second to process this information before he started to move, leaving the morgue.

--

"Duck, they found out!" Jethro exclaimed.

Ducky put his hand on Gibbs' right shoulder, trying to calm his friend and stated, "Jethro, slow down! Who found out? Mossad?"

"No, McGee and Abby! They started digging for information and came across Tony's credit card, which was used in Germany yesterday, by the way!"

For a second, Ducky was tempted to supplement that information with an interesting bit from his past, but before he could start telling the story, Gibbs spoke again.

"I told them we would meet at my house after work. Could you come, too? I don't know if I can handle this alone!"

"Of course, Jethro, I will be there!" Ducky promised his friend, also fearing that this would become quite the painful and complicated evening.

--

The last hour of the workday crept by excruciatingly slowly. Nobody had been able to focus on work, rather than the meeting that would happen later that evening.

When they finally left, McGee decided he would take Abby in his car. She had been lost in thought all afternoon, bursting out into tears from time to time, just to go back to her usual cheery self within moments of each outburst. Tim was really worried about her!

--

A little after five, everybody was sitting in Gibbs' basement and McGee was looking back and forth between Ducky and Gibbs. Gibbs had spent the last half an hour sweeping his house for bugs but had come up empty, something that had equally surprised and worried him. Finally, he decided to announce that he thought it was safe for them to talk.

Ducky looked at Jethro, who seemed torn and unsure where to start, so Ducky decided to begin.

"Abby, Tim, we are sorry, we lied to you about some things concerning Tony and Ziva's accident," he started.

"We don't know many things for sure, anyway. We have a theory of what might have happened. And we knew that, if we were right about it, Tony and Ziva needed all the help available to them," Gibbs continued.

"There was no positive ID of the bodies. Fingerprints were out of the question and dental or DNA matching weren't possible because the bodies were too badly burned and crushed from the fall," Ducky supplemented Gibbs' explanation with a few facts from his area of expertise.

Abby started sobbing again and McGee hugged her tightly, which calmed her down after a few more sobs.

"Basically, all we have is Ducky's opinion that the male body is built too slight to be Tony - and my gut," Gibbs explained to them.

Abby surprised everybody when she pressed out a question in between sobs.

"What does your gut tell you, Gibbs?"

"I think that the two of them did a lot of thinking after Vance split up the team. They probably finally realized their feelings for each other and then decided to run together. Ziva probably would have had to do anyway. Mossad wouldn't exactly have welcomed her back."

"So, they are in Germany now?" Abby asked.

"I think they are probably anywhere else but Germany. They will have planted the credit card as a false lead."

"I have something on that, boss!" McGee stated, snapping back into Special Agent mode, getting everyone's attention. "Before I could delete the traces on Tony and Ziva's papers, the system had already found a few more hits: the rental car re-surfaced in Poland this morning, stripped for parts and dumped just outside Warsaw. Also, somebody used the credit card in Switzerland to try and buy some tickets for EURO 2008 yesterday evening!"

Gibbs' face lit up slightly; all the new information pointed towards them actually being on the run. Ziva still knew how to set false trails pretty well.

"I think our two friends are hiding somewhere in Europe and by now they should have a comfortable head start on their pursuers. All we can do right now is to wish them luck and hope they find a way to let us know how they are doing in the near future," Ducky suggested.

"You're right. All that is left for us to do is to apologize for keeping you two in the dark," Gibbs suggested, looking at McGee holding Abby.

Which he and Ducky did right then and there, telling Abby and McGee they were sorry and Gibbs even surprising the two and Ducky by hugging each and everyone of them, something nobody would have expected of him.

They continued to talk about where Tony and Ziva might be until late that night. When everybody finally left for home, they felt a little more optimistic about their friends' situation.

--


End file.
